


She Cries

by emolee96



Series: Songs For A New World [2]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gen, M/M, also courf and bahorel being roommates, and courf having a cat named Dog, basically everything courfeyrac, beware fandom references galore, courfeyrac's my favorite, it's just fluff, ok?, pretty much, so courf/eponine is my new favorite ever, these tags are as pointless as my writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 03:48:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/882586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emolee96/pseuds/emolee96
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The second part of my Songs For a New World series, which I have decided is going to go out of order (because this one came easily, and On The Deck Of a Spanish Sailing Ship is hard and detailed and is going to take a while to write). Eponine and Courfeyrac's relationship, because I have decided that I love these two together and I wanted to write something just about them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She Cries

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently when my two older siblings get engaged a week apart, I decide to write fanfic to deal with all the feelings of love and happiness and all that jazz. Also I just love these two.

_there's a couple of things i've learned_

_on the many roads i've taken_

_flames are not what get you burned_

_it's the cold and the ice_

_here's a piece of advice_

_i got from a little bird_

_the flames can get you_

_stirred_

_it's the cold that leaves you shaken_

Courfeyrac didn’t believe in commitment. Well, that’s not exactly true. He was extremely dedicated to his friends and the causes that they fought for, to his work, but romantic relationships? They were fine for some people, sure, plenty of his friends were in wonderful relationships, but they just weren’t for him. He claimed that they took too much work, it was easier to go home with a different person every night, and his friends didn’t know what they were missing.  At least, that was what he told himself.

So he established rules, because structure was a necessary thing. He didn’t go out with the same person two nights in a row with exceptions for the weekends; he didn’t call anyone until at least 24 hours after they gave him their number (he claimed it made him look desperate, and that certainly wasn’t the impression he was going for); and he certainly never brought them to any weddings or other family events. Those things all meant commitment, and that was exactly the kind of thing Courfeyrac was trying to avoid. Oh, and he was always honest. Totally, completely honest. Enjolras valued it in him, Combeferre occasionally scolded him for being insensitive, Grantaire rolled his eyes, and Éponine just sighed, because really, it was Courfeyrac, and nobody was ever going to change him.

When Courfeyrac needed to talk, or he wanted to watch Game of Thrones somewhere that didn’t involve Bahorel screaming at the television set the whole time, or he had locked himself out of his apartment at three in the morning on a Friday and nobody would answer their phones to let him in, he went to Éponine's. They’d been best friends since their freshman year of high school, and he’d had a spare key to her place since the moment she moved into that terrible apartment with Cosette her sophomore year of college. (They didn’t talk about that apartment. We won’t discuss why here.) They knew everything about each other, the best and the worst and everything in between, and it worked for them. Éponine was the only one who could tease Courfeyrac about his inability to say “I love you” to anyone other than dogs they passed on the street or came across in Central Park, and he frequently reminded her of her horrible crush on Marius, which had faded years ago.

They were young, and they were free, and that was their life, and they were happy.

 

_always leave when a woman cries_

_never look in a woman's eyes_

_you'll get stuck with a high and rising fever_

_and then you can't leave her_

_please, don't wait man_

_it's almost too late man_

“Ok, new rule,” Courfeyrac announced as he stumbled into Éponine’s apartment at four in the morning the weekend before Christmas.

“What is it this time?” she asked, rolling her eyes. She moved over and made room for him on the couch next to her, and he promptly sat down and stole almost all the blankets. She kept a tight hold on the throw with the TARDIS pattern on it, though, because it was fuzzy and warm and Courfeyrac had gotten it for her for Christmas the year before. She was not about to give it up without a fight.

“Leave when they start crying.” he said tiredly. “Always leave when they start crying. It never turns out well once that starts.”

“I’ll add it to the list,” she said, only half-kidding because they actually kept a running list of all Courfeyrac’s rules on the bulletin board by the refrigerator. It was quite long now, really, but they kept it anyway, for posterity, and also so he didn’t forget a rule, because after a while, he couldn’t remember some of the earliest ones.

“You do that.” he told her. He tucked his feet up on the couch and leaned against her. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the greatest person ever, ‘Ponine? Because you’re pretty awesome most of the time.”

“Most of the time?” she pretended to be offended, but he could hear her smiling anyway. “I like to think I’m awesome all of the time, but I guess you’re entitled to your own opinion.”

“I’m just kidding. You’re pretty cool.”

“I know.”

“Can we watch Star Wars now?” When he was tired, Courfeyrac tended to sound like a four-year-old child, but Éponine did what he asked anyway, and popped in one of the DVDs, because that was the kind of things best friends did for each other.

They fell asleep on the couch about half an hour in to the movie, and as he drifted off, Courfeyrac started to realize that he would do anything to see Éponine smile.

 

_she cries and you want to hold her_

_she lies and you want to run away_

_but just give her a minute_

_i promise you're in it to stay_

 

“Courf? Can you come over please? I need a hug.” Éponine’s voice was quiet on the other end of the line.

“What’s wrong, Ep?” he asked, immediately concerned. The last time he’d heard Éponine sound this upset was when the social worker had told her they might have to take Gavroche away, but that had been two years ago, and the kid was in college himself now. (If that didn’t make Courfeyrac feel old, then he was probably immortal. It made him feel old.)

“It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t know why, Courf, I just need you here now, please?”

“Of course, I’m on my way, I’ll bring cookies,” he said. “I’ll see you in five minutes.”

Courfeyrac ran the two blocks from his apartment to Éponine’s, not even bothering to put on his coat, and let himself in. “Éponine?” he called when he didn’t see her on the couch. “Where are you?”

“My room, you idiot,” she said, still quiet. He put the cookies down on the coffee table in the living room and walked in.

“You okay, Khaleesi?” he asked her.

“Would I have called you if I was okay?” Éponine was an unmoving mass under the covers. Only her hair peeked out, because there was so much of it and it got very frizzy in the wintertime.

“You want to talk? What happened?” he sat down next to her and pulled the covers back so he could at least see her face.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, “Nothing happened. It was a good day, I’m just sad. Will you stay?”

“Is that even a question you need to ask?” he smiled.

She made him promise that he wouldn’t steal all the covers, and once he did, they curled up around each other, her head on his chest, and he told her funny stories about his cat, Dog, all of which she had heard before (she’d gotten him the cat for Christmas, after all. She was practically co-owner. Or at least godmother, if animals had godparents.) and eventually they both fell asleep.

Courfeyrac woke up earlier that Éponine in the morning, and stayed in bed with her, watching her sleep and thinking, once again, about how he would do anything to see her smile. When she woke up, she smiled at him hazily and yawned.

“Do you want to sit on the couch and eat cookies and have a Star Trek marathon?” he asked her, “Because I’m feeling a Star Trek marathon. Or Lord of the Rings. You decide.”

“How about both?” she suggested.

“Both. Both is good.”

And so they did just that, and Courfeyrac made stupid jokes about Background Legolas until Éponine was laughing so hard that she was crying, instead of just crying. And when they walked to the meeting, singing “Carrying the Banner” from Newsies at the top of their lungs like the Broadway-crazed sixteen-year-olds they secretly were inside, Courfeyrac felt himself falling in love, even though he didn’t know it at the time.

 

_she smiles and you'll stay forever_

_she screams_

_well, that's the price you pay_

_but there's no one can make you_

_forget how you feel_

_for all she can take_

_you've got more there to steal_

_so you don't mind a bit of surprise_

_and she cries_

 

“I think you should leave, Courf,” Grantaire said angrily, trying his hardest not to start yelling.

“When did you start telling me what to do?” Courfeyrac challenged.

“When you upset one of my best friends, and one of yours, too. That was out of line, Courf, totally uncalled for.  And now I think you need to get out of here before you say anything else we’re all going to regret. She’ll call you in the morning.”

“Don’t speak for her. She can do whatever the hell she wants.”

“And right now, I think she would feel more comfortable if you left,” Enjolras told him, somehow staying completely calm.

“Éponine?” Courfeyrac pleaded, turning to her.

“Leave. Please.” she said. She sounded close to tears, and her voice was scratchy, probably from all the screaming she’d done a few minutes ago. “Don’t call. I’ll talk to you when I want to.”

Courfeyrac walked out of the café slowly, turning back only once to see if Éponine was going to chase after him. She didn’t, of course. She wasn’t that kind of girl. When he looked back, he saw Grantaire hugging her tightly, and Enjolras awkwardly patting her back, unsure of what to do now that the actual crying part of the emotions had started. And even though he knew she would call him eventually, part of him was still worried that he’d ruined things for good. So he sent her a single text message before going to sleep.

TO KHALEESI (01:42:16 A.M. 1/14/13): i’m sorry. i’m going to be different now, i swear. i’ll talk to you when you call.

He didn’t expect a reply, of course, and so shut his phone off without even waiting to see what would happen. When he turned it on the next morning, aside from two messages from Bahorel (“YOU STUPID IDIOT!” and “SHE REALLY LIKES YOU A LOT STILL THOUGH DON’T WORRY”) there was a single message from Éponine, just two words, but the two words he needed to know he would be forgiven eventually.

FROM KHALEESI (02:06:51 A.M. 1/14/13): i know.

 

_i don't like to admit i'm wrong_

_i believe in guts and glory_

_but it's time i should change my song_

_i've been here just a bit too long_

_always thought i was much too strong for hating_

_and still i keep waiting..._

For all of his flirting, Courfeyrac found that when it mattered most, he expressed himself better in writing. So he sat down at his computer and started typing.

            _Éponine,_

_I’ve never been good at the whole commitment thing, you know that as much as I do. Probably better, actually. But I was talking to my mom the other day, and she asked about you, and I realized that I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life, and I should have done this a lot sooner than I am doing it, but better late than never, right? And I totally understand if you don’t want any of it, I’ve been a total jerk, but the thing is, I think I’m a little in love with you. Okay, maybe more than a little. And I know it’s a cop-out to say this in writing, you’ve always said that the important things should                      be said face-to-face, but… I at least needed to write it down before I told you. That’s all. I just wanted you to know, even if you hate me forever for it. Being truthful is important, after all, you know how I feel about that, and there’s nobody in the world I can be more honest with than you. So, jalan atthirari anni, I love you, and that’s that. You are pretty cool, after all._

_Courf_

He slid the letter under her door when he knew she was still at work, and when Éponine read it, she cried, and then she smiled, and then she called him and berated him for being a total idiot and not realizing it sooner.

 

_and while I'm resolving_

_that door keeps revolving_

_she cries and you want to hold her_

_she lies and you're half way out the door_

_but you never can do it_

_she'll make you go through it once more_

 

When they told their friends the news at the next meeting, the entire café erupted into cheers, and Éponine was fairly certain she heard Jehan mutter “Well, it’s about time.” She definitely heard Enjolras say “Maybe she’ll finally knock some sense into him” because he may or may not have announced that, quite loudly, to the entire café. (Grantaire never admitted to spiking his coffee, but Éponine had her suspicions.)

The first few weeks were thrilling, and every moment was better than the one before. When Gavroche came home for spring break, he had “the talk” with Courfeyrac, like any good brother would, and told him in no uncertain terms, that if he ever hurt Éponine, he would not live to see another day. Courfeyrac knew there was a reason he liked the kid.

There were rough days, of course, when Courfeyrac couldn’t help slipping back into his old ways a little bit and flirted with the occasional customer in the café, or when Éponine called him, crying, for no reason other than it was raining out or she’d seen a bird get hit by a car, but they worked through it together, and if anyone thought that the two of them weren’t perfect for each other, well, they were just wrong.

 

_she smiles and you'll stay forever_

_she sings_

_oh, she's got you now for sure_

_and each time that you swear_

_that you will not give in_

_she'll throw you a stare_

_that'll show you can't win_

_it's amazing how hard each man tries_

_but she cries_

They were sitting on the same couch in Éponine’s apartment where they’d been so many times before, in the middle of watching The Princess Bride for what seemed like the millionth time, when Courfeyrac paused the movie.

“It’s been two years, you know,” he said conversationally.

“I know,” she looked at him, slightly confused, “What’s your point?”

“Well,” he said, “I know that this is one of your favorite movies, that you secretly loved the new movie adaptation of Gatsby, your favorite color is either purple or teal depending on the weather, you love the salted caramel brownie pies my mother taught you how to make more than any other food in the world, you are solely responsible for Dog’s name no matter how much you try to convince me otherwise, and you’re absolutely the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. And do you know what else?”

“What?” Éponine had  a fairly good idea of where this was going. They’d known each other for almost ten years, after all.

“I’m totally and completely in love with you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Marry me?”

“Do you even need to ask the question?” she laughed, “Of course I will!” And she smiled the brightest smile Courfeyrac had ever seen.

 

_all of a sudden_

_you fall for her charms_

_you promise you'll stop all her tears_

_all of sudden_

_she's back in your arms_

_and the walls start closing_

_and blocking out the light_

_and changing all your dreams_

_and right before your eyes_

 

“You look absolutely stunning,” he whispered to her when he met her at the altar. “Also, Gavroche scares me a little bit.”

She laughed at him, and swatted him lightly with her bouquet, “Be polite,” she scolded, “We are in church after all.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur, and the only clear memory Courfeyrac had of the day was Éponine’s smile, and how she sang along softly during their first dance. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

_she cries_

_and i don't know the answer_

_she spies_

_and there's no place i can hide_

_when i look in the mirror,_

_there's nothing but fear here inside_

_i run_

_and still she is right behind me_

_i fall_

_the chasm is too wide_

“I still don’t know how this ever worked out, you and I,” Éponine said to him years down the line, “We still fight constantly, and I swear, if you tell me one more time that you don’t like Donna Noble, I will make you sleep on the couch.”

“We’re still arguing about that?” he rolled his eyes. “Lea, sweetheart,” he asked their daughter, “Who’s Daddy’s favorite on Doctor Who?”

“Donna,” she said, in the high-pitched voice every four-year-old posseses, one that would be extremely annoying if it weren't completely adorable.

“You’ve trained her well,” Éponine shook her head, “Because we both know that’s not actually true. And if you think she’s going to convince me, you’re wrong.”

“Momma, I want to play with Dog,” Lea tugged on Éponine’s shirtsleeve.

Éponine put the cat down on the ground. “There he is, love. Be careful, though, don’t pull on his tail.”

Lea rolled her eyes, with an attitude Éponine hadn’t realized children could possess, but was reminiscent in every way of Courfeyrac, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“This life is pretty good, isn’t it?” he asked her, squeezing her hand under the kitchen table. “And you’re pretty cool, too.”

“I know.” she smiled.

 

_so i'm stuck in this world of her magic mystique_

_where i'll never be more than her toy of the week_

_but each time i prepare my goodbyes_

_well, she catches me looking_

_and she opens the floodgates_

_and she cries_

**Author's Note:**

> "jalan atthirari anni" means "my moon and stars" in Dothraki. This was full of gratuitous fandom references, if you couldn't tell. You probably could. Anyway. Thanks for reading!


End file.
